


Praiseworthy

by The_Bentley



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1920s, 666 Fics Fics Fics (Good Omens), F/M, Female Crowley (Good Omens), Flappers, Historical, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Outdoor Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 19:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley
Summary: Sometimes thwarting a demon means something entirely different (like distracting your rival with impromptu sex behind a carriage house).  Or is that maybe what she wanted in the first place?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 136
Collections: 666 Ineffable Husbands, 666 word Fics Fics Fics!, Hot Omens





	Praiseworthy

**Author's Note:**

> 666 Fics Fics Fics Prompt: Praise

The jazz was enjoyable, but its loudness finally forced Aziraphale to step out of the party into the quiet back garden. Feeling much better, he enjoyed the cool night air peppered with the sound of crickets. 

Straightening his tux’s bowtie, he looked around for who else happened to be on the patio, searching for clues that something fishy might be going on. Heaven had caught word of a possible temptation, but last he heard Crowley wasn’t here right now. They had sent him to collect a summoned hellhound, which resulted in a nasty bite in need of treatment in Hell.

Wondering if Gabriel had him on a wild goose chase, he inhaled the soft breeze of the night air, taking in the soft scent of apple blossoms, pomegranate seeds and a hint of musk. His rival was here. 

Praising Above for the bit of luck, he set his nose to finding the girl who wore that perfume. She was not far upwind of him in her beaded flapper dress of black with a silver design, a silver scarf wrapped fashionably around her red bob. She was flirting with a man who was lighting her cigarette.

Walking up, he grabbed her arm, eliciting a protest from her conversation partner. She stared at him from behind wire-rimmed dark glasses, her now-lit cigarette held frozen in her free hand.

“There you are, my dear,” said Aziraphale with a nod towards the man. “What have I told you about running off like that?”

Taking a drag off the cigarette, she blew smoke directly in his face. 

“Say goodbye, Antonia.”

“Nice meeting you, Mr. Parker.”

“You, too, Miss Crowley.”

Aziraphale, angry Crowley was acting rather rudely, took her behind the carriage house away from the party. Seeing her in that dress with its high hemline had effects on his licentious emotions. Pushing her up against the side of the building out of the view of partygoers, he started caressing her, moving down towards those small pert breasts. She didn’t have the decency to wear a bra.

“What are you up to?” He nibbled her décolletage leaving red splotches.

“Tempting men into investing in the stock market.” The cigarette vanished, her hands busy undoing his trousers. “It’s going to crash in October.”

“Now I know why I’m here.” He exposed her breasts, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs.

She had his cock out, expertly playing with it, teasing the tip until he moaned. 

“I’m just doing my job. Really, I’d rather people not lose their life savings,” she cried out; he had bent down to suck her nipples, giving one a bite.

“You wanted to get caught. I can think of no other reason you’d wear that identifiable perfume.” 

Her hand on his cock became insistent, sliding up and down at just the right speed. Not able to stand it, he spun her around, hiked up her dress, his hand wandering to rub her clit. She lost her balance a moment, panting.

Bracing against the building, Crowley stuck her arse out shamelessly, praising Aziraphale’s abilities and certain features of his anatomy in her version of begging. Her knickers had disappeared, giving him the access they both desired badly. Taking her up on her offer, he eased into her, one hand on her clit while the other arm steadied her, keeping up the teasing of a nipple.

“Maybe it’s you, angel,” she gasped, responding to his rough thrusting with sensual movements of her own. "Heavens, you _are_ good."

Her praises became louder, more insistent. He grabbed her hair, turning her head to plant his mouth on hers, silencing them. She shuddered at his kisses, pressing closer against him, his hand rubbing her to climax. Aziraphale came right after her, pressing her hard into the building in his desire. Spinning around again, she briefly slid her tongue in his waiting mouth. 

“Thwarted again, my dear.”

“I don’t mind this kind of thwarting,” she breathed.

And with a snap of her fingers, Crowley was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I pulled the scents in Crowley's perfume from here: [Don't Touch](https://blackphoenixalchemylab.com/shop/neil-gaiman/good-omens/dont-touch-perfume-oil/), which is a "Good Omens"-based perfume oil.


End file.
